


Hold on to me (You're All I Have)

by theshipshipper



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, angsty, slight mention of abuse tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 17:38:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11468424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipshipper/pseuds/theshipshipper
Summary: Jon and Sansa has been together for three years, but somehow, even after all this time, they still don't think they deserve the other.They're both idiots, but at least they know they love each other.or Jon and Sansa sees the best in each other, even if they don't see the good in themselves.title from: Pieces by Rob Thomas





	Hold on to me (You're All I Have)

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired by the song Pieces by Rob Thomas. I've heard the song months ago but I was watching a Linctavia (The 100) video on youtube with the song playing and it gave me so much feels. Somehow my brain then jumped to Jonsa and angst. (though I don't think this is too angsty.)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy! :)

**_We build it up, we tear it down_ **  
**_We leave our pieces on the ground_ **  
**_We see no end, we don't know how_ **  
**_We are lost and we're falling_ **  
**_Hold onto me, you're all I have_ **

_-Pieces, Rob Thomas_

 

 

Sansa brushed her thumb against the warm metal around her finger, turning her head sideways so she could look at the man who’d given it to her just a few hours previous. Next to her, Jon is slumbering peacefully on his stomach, an arm draped loosely on her belly as he snored softly against his pillow.

She kept her eyes locked on him, mind reeling back to when he’d proposed, the moment that ultimately threw her into the internal crisis she’s currently having.

 _“Hey,”_ he’d said softly as soon as the program they’re watching switched to commercials. He reached for both her hands, grabbing her attention. _“I have something to tell you.”._

They were sitting on the couch, and vaguely she could hear the commercials playing, but her focus is fully on him, on the earnest expression on his face as he met her eyes. It’s enough to make her nervous. Nervous - but not worried. It’s almost funny how, despite having no clue what this is about, she can’t bring herself to be afraid. She simply knows that this wouldn’t be anything bad. Not with Jon, never with him.

He let out a deep breath, giving her his own nervous smile. _“Three years, do you believe that?”_ He asked with a soft laugh, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand gently. Three years indeed, the thought is enough to make a smile worm its way onto her lips. He doesn’t have to say much else; in those few words she already knew what was happening, what he’s trying to get at. And her heartbeat started to quicken in anticipation.

Sansa Stark had imagined this moment many times throughout her life. When she was young she’d envisioned it with her Prince Charming from one of her favorite fairytales; the gallant young prince with his blond hair and shiny armor, ready to sweep her off her feet and into a marvelous adventure. She’d thought that was Joffrey, and he did sweep her off her feet, only to let her fall on her ass with a loud thud. He wasn’t kind or gentle, not like the stories led her to believe. Instead, he was cruel and Sansa often wondered if he had a heart at all.

It wasn’t too different with Harry. He didn’t harm her, not like Joff did, but he was crass and uncaring, showing Sansa off to people as a prized possession and setting her aside once nobody’s looking. Though her past experience proved to her that life is not a song, she wasn’t ready to give up on her favorite love stories yet, and fooled herself into believing that Harry could be the man of her dreams, only to set herself up for disappointment.

 There were a few more relationships she’d had, none too significant to mention, just a few short flings that would’ve never lasted, but enough for her to completely give up on the idea of true love. Or just love in general, if she’s honest.

But, of course, as fate would have it, just when she’d closed herself off on romance and love, that’s when Jon Snow came back into her life. The Jon Snow she met in King’s Landing wasn’t much too different from the one she grew up in Winterfell with. In short, Sansa didn’t like him much. He was too quiet and a bit too brooding for her liking and for some odd reason he just knew exactly how to irritate her. Sometimes, without even having to do anything.

She knows that he dislikes her just as much, she’s too different from him and she had no place in his world. She wasn’t like her big brother, Robb, or her younger sister, Arya, who both adored and even longed for Jon’s company, and he wasn’t like any of the boys she knows. Which is a good thing, all things considering, but that only served to confuse her, just as surely as she confused him.

The logical solution to solve the issue was to simply avoid each other, to completely ignore their existence in the rare occasion that they would see each other, but it never felt like an option. Whether she liked him or not, he’s a piece of Winterfell, and just the mere sight of him made her feel safe and at ease. Made her feel at _home_.

So, despite their obvious dislike for each other, they kept in touch - sometimes even making plans to meet _on purpose_. It was infuriating in a way, needing Jon without liking him. At least that’s what she told herself. It’s a complete lie, of course, because she knew, even if she fervently denied it, that the more time she spent with him, the more her heart ached for him.

It was stupid though, unconsciously putting her guard down to let him into her heart. She knew he’d never hurt her on purpose, not like Joff or Harry or any of the boys that came into her life, but somehow that just made it worse. Because Jon could break her the way none of the others ever could.

He would love her and treat her the way her father has told her she should be treated, and he would realize that someone as broken as she, does not deserve the love he could give.

And that’s what she remembers now, looking at her ring. It’s illuminated even in the darkness of their bedroom, and it almost feels as heavy on her finger as it is in her heart.

 _“I never realized the difference between merely existing and actually living until you,”_ he’d told her with a reminiscent smile. _“You taught me that.”_ He chuckled softly then, looking up to catch her eyes. _“The past three years with you has been the happiest in my life, and yeah, a lot of shitty things had to happen for me to find you again and learn how to love, but –“_ he took a deep breath, searching her eyes before saying, _“but I’d do it all again if it means I could be here, right in this moment. With you.”_

She let herself smile at him, knowing how hard it is for him to speak his mind. He’s always been quiet, keeping his thoughts to himself, but she loves that he could do this with her, open up in ways he never could with anyone else. And, he’s right in that they both had to suffer through so much before they would find each other, but just like him, she can’t come to regret it.

All her pain, alj her suffering, it led her to Jon, and all that she’s had to endure just made his love for her all the more sweeter and meaningful. In a twisted way, she wouldn’t have known what love truly meant, if not for what she’d been through. It is still painful to look back on, sometimes, but she’s getting less and less reasons to look back at all.

 _“I would too,”_ she told him earnestly. _“if I get to keep you.”_

The slow grin that spread on his face made her heart soar. She loved this man, so much so that sometimes her heart wants to burst. _“Well then,”_ he said, getting off the couch to kneel in front of her, releasing her hand to fish the leather box out of his pocket. _“Sansa Stark, the love of my life,”_ he said with a small smile, eyes looking deep into hers as he opened the ring box. _“Will you marry me?”_

She’s never been more selfish than in that moment when she said, _yes_.

She doesn’t deserve Jon, never in a million years. She’d never deserve his kindness – _his love._ Worse than that, she knows that deep down he deserves someone whole, someone who isn’t as broken as her.

Yet she let herself be selfish, let herself open up to him and fall in love with him just because it feels so good to be loved by Jon Snow - completely disregarding the fact that she’s being unfair to him, that she could never live up to what he deserves. Maybe they were all right when they said that she didn’t deserve what she’d gone through, but it happened anyway, and it doesn’t erase the fact that she’s no longer the Sansa Stark that was whole. She’s broken. Beaten down and ruined. And now she’s done it, she’s _poisoned_ him too, just like everything she touched.

 _He deserves better_ , she thought, and with that, she slipped out of the bed, careful not to wake him as she disentangled herself from him and left.

\--

Jon groaned, slowly shifting on the bed with his aching muscles. It was a busy day at the station yesterday, but last night was equally strenuous. That thought brought a lazy smile to his lips, his arm subconsciously patting the other side of the bed in search for his girlfriend _._ No, his _fiancée_. His smile grew, eyes blinking open to look at Sansa, who he only belatedly realized wasn’t even there.

He leaned on his arm, surveying the room once he’d seen that her side of the bed is empty. _Not here_ , he thought. He twisted to look at the alarm clock on the side table, noting the time. 5:16 am. It’s too early for Sansa to be up and about. She’s never been a morning person, so he’s surprised to see her gone.

He pats the bed again and concluded that she’s been out of bed for a while now, what with how cold the sheet has gotten. He got out of bed, sleepily grabbing his boxers on the floor that he discarded last night during a fit of passion after his proposal, and put it on. Blearily, he made his way outside their bedroom, scanning the rest of the place for Sansa.

Their apartment isn’t big, so he could see, even from just outside the bedroom door, that Sansa isn’t anywhere in there. Not in the living room, not in the kitchen and not even in the bathroom which was ajar. With a frown, he headed back into the bedroom, starting to feel worried now.

His first instinct is to check the closet, just to be sure. He scanned it warily, trying to see if any of her clothes are missing. As far as he could tell, she hasn’t gone through it, so he turned around and surveyed the rest of the room, trying to figure out where she might’ve gone.

It’s not like her to just leave without telling him, especially not in the middle of the night – and especially not after last night. He swallowed down his doubts, trying not to think that maybe he’d done the wrong thing, said the wrong words. Maybe he should’ve gone with Robb’s suggestion and threw something big, something Sansa of the old would’ve loved. But no, he was confident that something simple would suffice, something intimate, to show her how he wants to live the rest of his life. With her and Ghost and in the comfort of the home they’ve made together.

He spotted his phone on the bedside table and grabbed it, ringing her number expectantly. She could have been called to work early, that’s possible, and she could confirm it once she answered – except when his phone started to ring against his ear, so did hers. He looked around the room, listening carefully to where the sound is coming from and found her phone tucked underneath her pillow.

He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at it dumbly. She brings her phone everywhere she goes, so unless she simply didn’t want to be found, she would’ve brought it with her. Running a shaky hand through his hair, he searched through his contacts. He doesn’t have to go to her if she doesn’t want him to, but he just has to know that she’s okay. His finger lingered over Robb’s name in his contact list as he contemplated on whether to call or not.

 He looked at the clock, noting that Robb would be getting ready for work around this time, so it wouldn’t exactly seem like a panic call. And if Sansa is with him, then he’d already know that there’s something wrong. Maybe he could even tell Jon exactly what it is since he definitely didn’t have any clue.

He tries to recall last night, tries to remember if there were any signs of this happening. Sansa was happy last night, glowing even. She was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in his life, and she just got more enchanting the moment she said _yes_ , agreeing to spend the rest of her life with him.

He thought everything was fine. Everything went smoothly last night, which is honestly a surprise to him, but maybe that should’ve told him that something would ultimately go wrong. He chewed on his lip nervously, trying not to overthink about the situation.

Before he could change his mind, he clicked on Robb’s name and the phone rang twice before his voice boomed on the speaker. “Hey man,” he said cheerfully. So he doesn’t know that Sansa’s not home, then, if he sounds that excited. “I’m assuming you called to say things went great so congratulations are in order, when are we celebrating?”

Jon inhaled quietly, thinking that that he’d celebrate only when he finds Sansa, and only when there’s even anything to celebrate. He’s not an idiot, it’s not hard to figure out that her leaving all of a sudden has to do with his proposal – maybe he’d scared her, maybe she was overwhelmed, or. Or maybe it’s not what she wanted after all.

They’d spoken about it many times before so he thought they were on the same page. They don’t usually focus on the wedding, but more on what will happen after. They’re going to buy a house, nothing big, just a few bedrooms, maybe two-storey. They both agreed on three kids, maybe more if they could handle it. She’s as enthusiastic about their future just as he ever was, maybe even more, so he doesn’t really understand what was going through her mind when she left without telling him.

He swallowed thickly, shaking the thoughts away before he gets sucked into it. He’s not going to assume anything until he finds Sansa and they talk this out. There could be a logical explanation for this, one that wouldn’t so completely break his heart. He has to believe that.

“Um - ” he cleared his throat, remembering that he’s still on the line with Robb. “Yeah, I’ll update you on that. Um, Robb, I have to go. I just remembered I had something to do. Bye.” He hung up without waiting, feeling more frustrated now.

He’s tempted to call Arya next. If Sansa didn’t come to Robb then maybe she would’ve gone to Arya, but if Jon’s wrong, then he would’ve just complicated things further. Arya’s very keen and she would immediately understand that if Jon was looking for Sansa and she isn’t with him after last night, then something must’ve gone wrong. Jon’s not ready to believe that just yet, still clinging to the idea that Sansa has a proper reason for not being in bed this early in the morning.

No, if Sansa wasn’t with Robb, and he’s assuming she isn’t with Arya, then she’s probably on her own. Going to anyone would mean getting more questions than she cares to answer and if Jon’s right and last night confused her, then she would want to be alone.

He headed out of the bedroom, completely at a loss. Where the fuck could she have gone? He looked at Ghost, who’s watching him intently now. He whined a little, tilting his head towards the door and then back at him, which he assumes means that his dog’s telling him that his girlfriend left.

“Yeah buddy,” he said after Ghost whined a little more. “I’m worried about her too.”

Though Jon knew that he wouldn’t find her in the apartment, he still looked around to check if she left anything as a clue to where she’s gone. Maybe a note or something. There’s nothing in the bathroom, he doubts she even went there before leaving. Nothing in the living room either, the place looking just as scrambled as they’d left it last night when they hastily made their way to the bedroom. In the kitchen, he did find something, just not the something he wanted to find.

Sitting on top of the counter is the engagement ring he’d bought for her, with no Sansa to be found. He grabbed it and studied it carefully, assuming that this is the message he’s been looking for. It should be enough to inform him of Sansa’s decision.

 _She doesn’t want to marry him_. It should be as simple as that, it’s a clear message and he could just operate under the impression that they’re done but _fuck that_. He’s not going to let a fucking ring, left on his countertop by a girlfriend he can’t find, dictate the outcome of this whole thing. If Sansa wants it to be over then she’s going to have to tell him straight to his face.

Jon ran a hand through his hair, trying to force himself to calm the fuck down. Of course, the situation isn’t really doing anything to help him calm down, but he wants to keep a clear head when he does find her, and it’s proving to be more difficult than he thought.

More than anything, he’s annoyed that Sansa would just leave the house with no phone to contact her with and no money, because Jon found her wallet sitting on the computer table, all her cash intact. But it does tell him that without any cash, she couldn’t have gone far, so there’s that.

She knows he’d go crazy if she didn’t let him know where she was, she knows he would look for her and wouldn’t stop until he found her, even when he found the ring. If she wanted him to stay away, she would’ve written a note to tell him exactly where she is, and he would know to stay away.

It’s an hour of looking for her until he found her at the Wolfswood Park, seated on one of the benches with her hands on her face. He could tell, even at a distance, that she’s crying, and the sight of her almost broke him.

He doesn’t like seeing her cry, especially not if it could be because of him. He wants her to be happy, always, and he hasn’t had a reason in so long, to think that she might not be. If it’s because of him that she’s crying, if spending the rest of her life with him isn’t what she wants, then he’s prepared to let her go.

It would hurt. Fuck, it would hurt so much, but he’d let her go if that’s what she needs. A part of him has always expected her to eventually figure out that she deserves someone better than him, and he’d been prepared for that too. If it meant that she could be happy, even if it isn’t with him, then he thinks he can accept that.

He watched her for a while; bit back his own tears as he watched her shoulders shake as she cried in the palm of her hands. He would’ve stayed away for longer, if he could still take to watch her cry.

 _“Sansa,”_ he said, almost a whine.

She looked up immediately at the sound of his voice, her eyes puffy and red from all the crying. She instantly wiped the tears off her face, blinking up at him.

“Jon,” she’d said, sounding surprised.

He wanted to come closer but hesitated for a second, standing a few feet from her, before deciding that he’s being ridiculous. He has no reason to be hesitant to approach her, not for the longest time now. When they were kids, he didn’t really know how, and honestly didn’t want to, because she’d probably just laugh at him or tell him to fuck off. Politely, of course, because that’s how she always was.

He walked right in front of her, hesitating again before kneeling down so he could be at a closer level with her. So he could look at her and ask her, or even plead with her, to tell him what’s happening.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice hoarse. “You shouldn’t have come. I was gonna - ”

 _Go home_ , he finished in his mind. He nodded to let her know he understood. He didn’t really need to hear it to know that she wouldn’t have just left him, never to return again. He knew that to be the truth, deep down. Still, despite that, he didn’t know what to make of the situation. She still left, after all, and that’s enough cause to worry; to doubt.

 “Do you love me?” He asked, looking at her intently. He didn’t know what else to ask but he knew that her answer would make things simple. If she didn’t then there’s nothing else to talk about.

 “Of course,” she said indignantly, sounding almost offended.

He nodded, his lips quirking up a bit at that despite the circumstances. “And I love you,” he told her. “So… why are we here?”

“Because of that,” She said, suddenly not meeting his eyes. “Because you love me - and you shouldn’t.”

He frowned at her, “I shouldn’t?”

It’s been so long since he’d seen her this unsure of herself that he almost didn’t notice, but it’s written in the way her eyes wouldn’t catch his, like she knew he’d see the dark thoughts flying around her mind if he just looked. He inhaled sharply, remembering Joffrey and Harry and knowing that this is somehow their fault. Even years after hurting Sansa, memories of them would still creep into her mind and make her doubt her own worth. Jon would like, more than anything, to beat the shit out of both those fuckboys, even after all these years. They hurt the most important person in his life, he’ll never let that go.

Of all things, he didn’t realize that his proposal would be what brings out all her past insecurities, but he should’ve. Sansa’s always done a good job of looking down on herself, never seeing what he sees in her. He watched her face intently, trying to figure out what might be going through her head. He’d gotten pretty good at reading her, but there hasn’t been any need for him to do that, not for a long time, so he’s out of practice. “What’s wrong with me loving you?”

She bit her lip, like this conversation is mentally hurting her, and he tries not to pull her into his embrace before she gets it out. She needs to say it, even though he thinks he already knows what she’s about to say, but the only way he can assure her is for him to know how to prove it to her.

“Everything,” she let out in a quiet voice. “You deserve better, Jon. I’m sorry I made you love me.” Honestly, it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “It wasn’t fair to you.”

He chuckled tiredly, dropping his hands on her knees as he shook his head. His love could be so frustrating sometimes. “Sansa, if there’s one thing you didn’t do, it’s that.”

If anything, she made it more _difficult_ for him to love her. When they were starting to be friends, she always kept him at an arm’s reach, never letting him close or letting him in. She wouldn’t confide in him, she’d often shut him out and push him away whenever she unconsciously lets herself, physically or mentally, get close to him. He watched her struggle to find a place for him in her life, even when there wasn’t a place for _anyone_ anymore, and quietly, he wanted to save her. But she ended up saving _him_ , instead.

The only reason he found her in King’s Landing was because he was looking for his father. Before his mother succumbed to her illness, she only had one task for Jon. _“Find your father. Tell him – tell him I’m sorry.”_ She’d said breathlessly, holding onto his arm so tightly he wanted to believe that she’d survive. _“Promise me, Jon.”_

It was the last thing he wanted to do, but his mom had begged him to do that one last thing for her, so once the service was over and he’d sold everything they owned – the small house in Winterfell, his mother’s futile belongings, some of his own – he’d left and went South to look for a man who never even bothered to look for them.

It’s Sansa he found first, and though he’d always known in the back of his mind that she lived in King’s Landing too, he never really thought he’d see her there. Even in a small town like Winterfell he hardly saw her, and that’s with him spending virtually all his days around her house while he hung out with her brother. So he assumed he wouldn’t find her in a big city. But find her he did.

It should’ve been a one-time thing, he definitely assumed that they’ve reached their quota in that single meeting, but somehow they just kept finding each other even in the most oddest of situations, and honestly, it wasn’t the worst thing to happen.

The South is a shitty place and he hated almost everything about it, except for her. She reminded him so much of home, of Robb and Arya and everything that was good in Winterfell. It took them a while to warm up to each other, which was understandable considering they were never close as kids, and things were only more complicated since they’ve grown up, but try as he might, he couldn’t stop himself from needing her close.

He was the first to open up, and it opened a new door in their relationship, one where they can no longer deny that they’re not just two people who came from the same place, that they were at least friends at that point. She’d even helped him find his father. Or what was left of him.

 _“He’s buried in the Baelor. Died eighteen years ago,”_ an estranged uncle said, seeming almost amused about Jon’s surprise appearance. _“Car crash - with his wife and two kids. Your siblings, I suppose.”_

 Jon didn’t realize that he’d be hurt by the information, not just the fact that his calculations proved that the man had been married when he met his mother, but also the fact that even though Rhaegar Targaryen was merely a stranger to him, Jon still had to lose him. And finding the truth about him only served to make him lose more of his family, whether he knew _them_ or not.

It had broken him in a way that he didn’t realize a stranger could. He mourned more family than he even realized he had. _“I had a brother,”_ he’d told Sansa in a daze. _“And a sister.”_ He swallowed thickly, not understanding why it hurt him so much. _“And I never even got to meet them.”_

Sansa pulled him into her arms then, rubbing his back soothingly as he cried. They still only call each other friends begrudgingly at that point, but having her there with him had helped more than he could’ve admitted to her at the time. Something shifted in their relationship from then on, though, but he didn’t realize he was in love with her then, not yet, but he did seek her out more often and did everything he could to make her smile, even if she wouldn’t tell him the reason why she ever stopped.

“Do you want to marry me?” He asked her, once he’d pulled himself out of his thoughts. He won’t let her doubts and fears control her, not when she’s gotten this far from what used to frighten her.

She nodded, “more than anything.”

“Then marry me,” he said, making it simple. “You don’t have to overthink it. Just follow this,” he took her hand, placing it on top of her heart. “Just follow it and let it lead you to me.”

“But what if -” she halted, looking a little pained. “What if there’s someone out there who could love you better, who could -”

“Not possible,” he said, cutting her off before she babbles on about some theoretic woman that Jon really isn’t interested to hear about. He sighed, reaching for her hand again so he could place it on his chest, over his own beating heart. “This is yours, only yours.”

“I’m not perfect, San,” he said, a little annoyed that she, of all people, would doubt that she can have him forever. It would be almost humorous how low of an opinion she has of herself if it didn’t frustrate him so much. She’s so fucking amazing, she’s intelligent, kind, funny - she’s almost like a dream sometimes, and he can’t understand why she doesn’t see that. “You don’t have to ever worry about deserving me,” he added incredulously. “If you ask me, you’re the one who deserves someone better, but I’m selfish, so I’m yours for as long as you want me to be.”

“I’m probably going to annoy you more often than not,” He reminded her, because that’s what he’s good at and that gets a small smile from her. “You’re going to be mad at me when I ultimately mess something up at some point and in a week we’re probably going to be pissing each other off - but you would still love me anyway. So you should let me love you too.”

“Okay,” she agreed, looking a little guilty. “I’m sorry for -” she huffed, looking around in frustration. She doesn’t have to tell him what she’s sorry for, he already knows, and that’s fine. He won’t tire of reminding her that they’re in this together not because of fate or destiny or whatever bullshit like that, they’re together because they choose, every single day, to love each other.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” he told her, his lips quirking up at the thought of what he’s about to say next. “I know I’m pretty surreal, I don’t blame you.”

She snorted, sliding her hand up to caress his face. There’s a soft smile playing on her lips, the one that’s just for him, and he’s reminded yet again that he’ll forever be amazed that someone as incredible as her would love him so.

“Cockiness doesn’t look good on you,” she told him.

He grinned at that, leaning forward to catch her lips in his. Kissing her, no matter how long he’s been doing it, still feels like the first time sometimes, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of it. Of her, of them, of the life they’ll build together.

He leaned back to catch his breath, tempted to point out how ridiculous they must look to everyone else around them. There she was, on her striped pajamas and his old Winterfell Direwolves hoodie, and him on sweatpants and a ratty old shirt, but he has another thing in mind.

He fished her engagement ring out of his pocket, and silently thanked the gods it’s still there too, considering he left the apartment in a haste, and the last thing on his mind was putting it back into its box for safety.

“For the second time in less than twenty-four hours,” he began jokingly, holding the ring by the fingertips to show her. “Sansa Stark, love of my life and sometimes a huge pain the ass,” he added the last part with an eye roll, and it makes her laugh. “Will you marry me?”

“It’s still a yes, Jon,” she told him. “No matter how many times you ask, it’s still a yes. Even if it’s selfish.”

“I don’t mind you being selfish, not if it means I get to spend the rest of my life with you.” He took her hand, looking up at her before placing the ring back on her finger. “Gotta warn you though, once I put it on you you’re not allowed to remove it again. Ever.”  

She nodded, “sounds perfect.”


End file.
